


to prove a point

by airblends



Series: SASO 2016 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, Public Display of Affection, Teasing, this is embarrassing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airblends/pseuds/airblends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Oikawa’s been dissing you, Issei,” Hanamaki discloses finally, shooting a glance towards his captain. “He thinks your, quote, posture is bad, unquote.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	to prove a point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambivia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivia/gifts).



> I've told you how much I love your prompts, so when I saw [this one](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/13854.html?thread=5121054#cmt5121054) I absolutely had to write this. (*Whispers*: They're idiots, all of them.)

 

“Mattsun is a disaster on two legs,” Oikawa declares one day after practice. It’s clear that it has nothing to do with his performance on the court, because he wouldn’t have waited until later to comment on it.

“What? Why?” Hanamaki squints at his boyfriend from across the gym, where he’s collecting stray volleyballs with the rest of the team. He looks like always; nice, messy black hair, straight face, tired eyes. Nothing unusual about that.

Oikawa gestures wildly, arms flailing. “You haven’t _noticed_? Makki must be blind,” he says, tutting in disappointment. Matsukawa shuffles through the gym, balancing several balls in his arms, still no more disastrous-looking than any other day.  
“What’s your damage?” Hanamaki crosses his arms in defense.

“Ugh, have you seen Mattsun’s _posture_? It’s no wonder he’s been complaining about his back aching if he walks with a hunch like that.”

Hanamaki raises an eyebrow. “Oh, has he now? Interesting.” A smirk spreads on his lips, and he makes a mental note to inquire for more information once they’re alone. However, there’s no way he can unsee what Oikawa meant, now—Matsukawa’s back _is_ bent, and he could do a nice impression of the hunchback of Notre Dame if he gave it a little more feeling.

“All the time,” Iwaizumi chips in, his back turned while he disassembles the net with Kindaichi. “He’s been going on about his _achy breaky back_ for days.”  
Hanamaki chokes on his own spit laughing while simultaneously congratulating Iwaizumi for the ability to say _achy breaky back_ with a straight face.  
  
Oikawa throws his hands up in defeat. “Makki, don’t just stand there laughing, _do_ something about it!”

“Oh, I will, just you wait and see,” Hanamaki promises, already jogging towards the storage room. Matsukawa appears at the door, now empty-handed, and sends him a soft smile when they meet halfway.

“Hey,” he says, expression warming. He leans down for a quick kiss, but Hanamaki stops him with a finger to his lips. Matsukawa mimes biting his finger off and they share a moment of laughter before Hanamaki swallows the last of his giggles down.  
  
“Oikawa’s been dissing you, Issei,” he discloses finally, shooting a glance towards his captain. (He’s caught up in a heated argument with Iwaizumi now. From the way Iwaizumi’s got him in a firm headlock it looks like they’ll be occupied for another moment.)  
  
“He thinks your, quote, posture is bad, unquote.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mind you, you do walk with a hunch sometimes,” Hanamaki admits, nibbling at a peeling piece of skin on his thumb.

Matsukawa snorts. “No, I do not?”

“Want me to prove it to you?” Hanamaki’s eyes flash and Matsukawa’s narrow in that lazy way they sometimes do when he’s either planning a prank or trying to figure out whether one is about to be played on him.

“Is this a challenge?”

“Not really ‘cause you don’t get a say in this. This is just me proving a point. Well, me and Oikawa, I guess,” Hanamaki says, building himself up so he’s nose to nose with his boyfriend. They’re only about three centimeters apart in height, but Matsukawa has recently found enjoyment in teasing Hanamaki for his “tininess”. With a pleased nod, Hanamaki wraps his arms around Matsukawa, pulling himself against his chest.  
  
“What are you doing?” Matsukawa asks, amusement resonating with it.

“As I said,” Hanamaki replies, hands sliding down his back, “I’m proving a point.” Satisfied with the palpable shivers beneath the pads of his fingers, he shoves them under Matsukawa’s shirt, his skin a little damp with drying sweat. This he doesn’t mind, if anything it’s a toned down recap of what he felt like last night, and judging from the look in Matsukawa’s eyes, the same thought just crossed his mind. _Perfect_.  
  
“Are you trying to seduce me? In _public_?” Matsukawa’s voice is all smiles and bitten lips. It makes Hanamaki want to, _God_ , he wants to, but he’s trying to prove something here, so he exercises patience.

“No,” he says sweetly, planting his palms firmly on Matsukawa’s lower back. He spares a second to confirm that yes, they have an audience now (Iwaizumi’s stopped giving Oikawa noogies) before he turns back to face Matsukawa. If his eyes were lidded before, they’re almost closed now. _Patience_ , Hanamaki tells himself.  
  
When he tilts his head a little to press an open-mouthed kiss against Matsukawa’s neck, he’s met with a sharp intake of breath, and his lips curl into a grin.

“You _are_ seducing me,” Matsukawa breathes with an underlying, giddy kind of panic to it. They are standing smack dab in the middle of the gym after all, and at this point Hanamaki’s sure at least half the team is watching. Still, he feels Matsukawa’s hands settle on his waist. He’s always been somewhat of an exhibitionist.  
  
“Nope,” Hanamaki says in the most deadpan tone he can muster, allowing himself to take a deep breath. “Still _proving a point_.” And then he rakes his nails up Matsukawa’s back in one single, smooth motion.  
  
Matsukawa doesn’t give him a big reaction. He gives him an _explosive_ reaction.  
  
He all but shoots up, out of Hanamaki’s embrace, his spine straightening like it’s been spontaneously replaced with a metal rod. He might have jumped through the roof if it wasn’t for the law of gravity. This in itself would’ve been funny, but with the moan escaping him along with it, it’s fucking hilarious. Laughter erupts from all corners of the gym, and Hanamaki joins in, doubling over with his hands clutched to his stomach. He couldn’t have made up a better way to embarrass his boyfriend in his dreams.

“Nice, Makki!” Oikawa cheers, hanging off of Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Kindaichi’s giggling with a hand covering his mouth, and even Kunimi looks slightly less disinterested than usual.  
  
Hanamaki recovers slowly, wiping tears out of his eyes so he can get a clear look at Matsukawa. His face and neck are an even shade of crimson, but he’s laughing along with everyone—not like he’s trying to mask his embarrassment, but rather like he’s genuinely having fun, and that makes Hanamaki’s heart jump a little. If he had to pick a favorite trait about Matsukawa, it’d be the essence of this moment, the way he he doesn’t take himself too seriously.  
  
“See? Your posture _is_ horrible, you just proved it yourself,” he says.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should do that more often, to break the habit,” Matsukawa suggests innocently.

Hanamaki doesn’t answer, not with words, anyway. Instead, he pulls Matsukawa in by the fabric of his practice shirt and kisses him softly, and for a moment their teammates and the gym vanish; it’s just the two of them. Thumbs stroke along Hanamaki’s jaw, and just like that he’s gone.  
  
They only break apart when someone whistles obnoxiously at them. Knowing it’s Oikawa, Hanamaki flips him off, but he does step back reluctantly, letting their exchange end way too soon.  
Matsukawa is showered in more teasing remarks while they help clean up, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Once everything’s done and most of the team’s disbanded, it’s only the four third year regulars left in the club room. Oikawa makes a show of walking around with his head held high, flaunting what he calls “flawless posture”, but all that does is elicit more stifled laughs while everyone changes back into their school uniforms.

  
Hanamaki and Matsukawa wave goodbye to their friends at the school gate before they set off on their way home.   
They make small talk most of the way, but eventually their conversation comes back around to what had transpired directly after practice.

“Is my posture really that bad?” Matsukawa asks, his tone playful.

“It’s pretty terrible, honestly. I don’t know how I never noticed until today,” Hanamaki says.

“What do you reckon, you think it’s fixable?”

“I thought so for a second there, but now it looks like you’ve gone back to your usual, slouchy self.” Hanamaki shakes his head in mock disappointment.

“Looks like I’ll need you to do that again, that thing you did earlier? Maybe it’s therapeutic. You free tonight?”

“Let me check my schedule,” Hanamaki says, pretending to flip through a timer. “Ah, sorry, looks like someone made an appointment with me in a bit? Ever heard of someone who goes by the name of Issei?” Hanamaki bites his lip trying to keep a straight face, but it’s hard not to smile when Matsukawa does it first.

He takes Hanamaki’s hand, squeezing gently. “Never heard of him. Sounds like a strange one.”

“Nah,” Hanamaki objects, pulling Matsukawa down the street to his house, “I think I might have a bit of a soft spot for him, actually.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> (((Find me on [tumblr](http://airblends.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/yamaguchitxt) and cry about matsuhana with me.)))


End file.
